


Super Psycho Love

by xdatenshibluex



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angstshipping - Freeform, Bakura and Malik have a stupid friendship and I love it, Bakura goes through some rough shit okay, Car Sex, Character's name spelled as Malik, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face Slapping, First Time, Friendship, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Murder, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Shower Sex, attempted suicide, dirty texting, horny Ryou, psychoshipping, some fluff here and there, they fucking hate each other and yet....
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xdatenshibluex/pseuds/xdatenshibluex
Summary: "There is no real life for those such as us. You're a brought to life imaginary friend thought up by a scared child and I'm a relic from the past that can't move forward because everything fell apart a long time ago. There is no happy ending for us. There never was from the beginning. We're monsters and we're stuck here in a world that has no use for us." Slightly AU. Psychoshipping.





	1. Prologue

_Chapter Track : Drunk by Ed Sheeran_

* * *

Shoved between two less than trustworthy looking establishments on the shit side of Domino City sits an equally shitty bar. It's the kind of place you don't go to if you can help it: concrete floor stained by questionable substances, the worn leather-bound stools ripped and torn, and barely lit on the inside by bare light bulbs in the single digits, and a mere flickering streetlight from the out. It's the kind of place you go to alone at three in the morning when your hopes are low and your need to forget and cast away society is high. And that's precisely why Bakura has found himself here many a night, tonight just but another.

He outstretches his legs to come to rest on the booth across from him. The windows are so grimy that the glow from the streetlight is barely making it through, but Bakura stares out at the empty sidewalk anyway, his bleary eyes empty and lost.

Bakura's drunk. He's really drunk. He's drunk enough to not notice the putrid mixture of body odor and cheap liquor smell that hangs heavy in the air, or the shifty eyes he's getting, presumably for the vast array of empty glasses he has piled up on the table.

He's drunk enough to want to cry. Drunk enough that he could let go of all the pent up emotions behind the wall if he wanted to. But he's not going to. Bakura isn't an emotional drunk. He's not even an angry drunk. He's just a drunk drunk. He's dizzy and he's nauseous and his body feels tingly and numb at the same time.

He's just drunk. Drunk and empty.

The bell above the door signals a new arrival, but the whitette doesn't look up. He doesn't even look up when he hears his name. He vaguely recognizes the voice, but he's too out of it to put a face to it. It's not until his legs are lifted up and dropped to the floor that he looks up to see who dares slide into the seat in front of him.

"You."

His eyes go wide at first, then narrow in confusion. Surely his vision is failing him. Surely the smirking man before him is not Yami Marik.

"Me."

The man says the word proudly, as if he's some sort of divine entity that's blessing Bakura with his presence.

"You." Bakura repeats, his eyes narrowing more so. It falls dangerously off his tongue, harsh and bitter. It is him. Bakura would recognize those crazy eyes anywhere.

How is he here, Bakura wonders. He was banished to the shadows back in Battle City, he thought. But then again, Bakura himself is supposed to be gone, too; a long forgotten memory. Yet here he sits, across from Mariku no less.

"What are you doing here?"

It's really all Bakura can think of to say. Mariku taps one of the many empty classes with his nails and seems to muse over that for a second or two.

"I could ask you the same question." he finally answers, glancing up in an attempt to meet the other's gaze. But Bakura promptly looks away.

"You shouldn't be here." Again, it's all Bakura can think up to say. He shakes his head, trying to will away the headache that is coming on.

"Concerned, are you? " There's humor in the demon's voice. "I can go wherever I please. I can take care of myself, as I'm sure you already know."

"That's not what I meant." Bakura snaps, and he's not really sure why.

He stands suddenly, unsteadily, and stumbles over to the bar, catching himself with his arms on the counter. He clumsily gets up onto the stool, hearing the splintered wood crack under his weight. He reaches for his glass but upon realizing it's not there he bangs his palm on the counter, trying to gain the bartenders attention.

"Vodka." he orders as he lays his head down on his arms.

"You've had enough."

I've had enough of your backtalk, he thinks, but can't find the energy to actually speak the words. So he just bangs his palm against the wood again and makes a 'come on' motion with his hand afterward. He hears a sigh above him, but sure enough a drink is set down by his hand a moment later.

Bakura raises his head and takes a gulp of the alcohol, just barely wincing as it burns it's way down. He props up his elbow and rests his cheek in his palm, closing his eyes. He thinks Mariku has left, but then he's spun around to face him, and he just barely manages to not throw up. When his vision clears up he sees the other leaning down to look him in the face. Bakura wonders how he's going to get home in such a state, and as if Mariku can read his thoughts, the blonde chuckles and shakes his head at him.

"Oh how you've fallen."

The whitette growls and shoves him away, albeit weakly, and Mariku just chuckles again and hops up onto the stool to his left.

"You know," Mariku begins. "I could help you home."

Bakura growls again, the nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach worsening in intensity. The bar is so dusty that you could write your name in it with your finger and Bakura grips onto it for support.

"I don't need any help from the likes of you!"

"I'll have what he's having." Bakura hears him say.

All is silent for a few moments. Bakura's head swims while the other sips at his drink. What is Mariku doing in Domino City, Bakura wonders, and why is he at a bar of all places? It seems like as good a place as any to pick a fight, but Mariku doesn't seem interested in that aspect. The only thing he seems interested in is Bakura, and that has the spirit unnerved.

"Marik and I made up."

Bakura snorts, almost laughs out right. Made up? The demon Marik created out of his own misery and suffering, who ruined him and tried to kill him, made up with him? Right. And Bakura was still the King of Thieves.

Suddenly feeling more bitter than before, Bakura raises up and looks directly at Mariku.

"You made up." It's a statement. An unconvinced statement.

Mariku just nods as he sips away at his drink.

Bakura scoffs. Mariku slams his glass down.

"I have a life now. A real life."

"You are hilarious, you know that?"

Mariku looks put out, offended even. Bakura doesn't care. He goes on. Surprisingly enough, despite his level of intoxication, he comes up with quite the rant.

"There is no real life for those such as us. You're a brought to life imaginary friend thought up by a scared child and I'm a relic from the past that can't move forward because everything fell apart a long time ago. There is no happy ending for us. There never was from the beginning. We're monsters and we're stuck here in a world that has no use for us."

Bakura angrily kicks the bar and grumbles to himself, taking another swig of his drink. Thousands of years of of his pathetic excuse for a life all lead up to his ultimate defeat. There was no happily ever after. There was no downfall of the Pharaoh. There was no justice for his people. There was nothing. Nothing at all.

And there is nothing still.

"Where are you going?"

Mariku asks the question before Bakura even realizes he's up and heading for the door.

He stops, held up only by the door frame, and glares at the blonde like he was the one who burnt his village down to the ground. And then he stumbles out.

* * *

_"I wanna be drunk when I wake up, on the right side of the wrong bed. And never an excuse I made up. To tell you the truth I hate what, didn't kill me. It never made me stronger at all"_


	2. Who's Puting Who in Whose Place?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let me make this short and sweet." Mariku said. "You're alive for all eternity. I'm alive for all eternity." The blond opened his eyes to look at the whitette whose expression hadn't changed. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"
> 
> But Bakura heard him loud and clear and he blushed for multiple reasons- anger, frustration, sadness, and because, well, Mariku was gorgeous and for him to offer himself like this was, admittedly, attractive to him.
> 
> Mariku would never know that, though. Bakura would keep his straight face until the end.
> 
> "You must be deranged if you think I'd ever stop so low as to get with you."

Chapter Track: Scars by Papa Roach

* * *

 

"Today on golf central-"

"Who the fuck even likes golf?"

Click.

"Believe! Believe!"

"I believe I'll shove my foot up your ass if you don't stop telling me what to do."

Click.

"And they're in the ring!"

"I bet I could take the pharaoh in a boxing match."

Click.

"And here we have a golden band worth-"

"I wouldn't mind stealing that."

Click.

"And then sprinkle it with salt and you have a tasty-"

"Dammit now I'm hungry. Ryou!"

Bakura powered off the tv and glanced over the couch at Ryou stumbling into the room. A toothbrush was haphazardly hanging from his mouth and he was pulling his jeans up.

"You're going to class already?" It took everything in Bakura not to groan.

"I'm late." Ryou stated in a rush, finally getting his pants on.

"But I'm hungry."

Ryou rolled his soft eyes. "You know where the kitchen is."

Bakura hmphed and sunk back into the couch. Ever since Ryou had started studying psychology in college he had not only forgiven Bakura for all he had done, but over the course of the last few months he had also grown quite a backbone. Any plan to intimidate or use him was shut down immediately so Bakura had stopped trying. Ryou wasn't the slightest bit afraid of him anymore and what did it really matter? Bakura had lost his way already, anyway. Using Ryou wouldn't aid that.

The younger whitette also studied art and was lugging around a huge canvas displaying his latest project. He balanced it on his knee and opened the door, waving to Bakura.

"I'll be back late. Don't destroy the kitchen, okay?"

"Yeah yeah." Bakura shooed him away dismissively with a sigh.

The door closed behind Ryou and Bakura was left alone with his thoughts. Mainly his thoughts pertaining to last night. Mariku was back, and that spelled trouble. There was just no way he and Malik had buried the hatchet. Not after everything that happened. But what reason would the other yami have to lie about it? There was some ulterior motive. There had to be. But what?

"Ugh."

He needed a drink.

He rose up from the couch and sauntered into the kitchen, growling when he opened the fridge and saw nothing alcoholic save for a bottle of wine. Oh well. It would have to do. He grabbed the bottle, popping it open and taking a chug. Bakura headed back to the couch, collapsing into the cushions and sighing heavily. Today was going to be a long day. He was always cooped up in the house while Ryou was at class and he had just about had enough.

Leaving the former spirit of the ring alone with his thoughts for long periods of time was dangerous, proven by his plan of revenge on the pharaoh. He had spent many long nights in the ring in agonizing misery. And for what?

Bakura angrily kicked the coffee table, knocking over much of it's contents, before slumping further into the couch until he might just disappear. His mind wandered back to Mariku and his strange appearance in town. Were the other Ishtar's around as well? Not that he really cared. He was more concerned by Mariku and the things he had said to him.

Like that he had a real life.

If that were true, Bakura was both disgusted and envious. He wasn't sure which feeling was weighing the other out. He didn't want to think too into that.

He took another long drink of the wine before sinking into the full couch, stretching his legs and placing the bottle on the formerly kicked coffee table. He switched the tv back on and tried to relax. He could very well go out to another bar; get shitfaced and start a fight. But he just... didn't have it in him. He was still lazily nursing his hangover from last night.

Relaxation had never come easily to the thief, but he was already drifting off to sleep when a knock at the door stirred him. Sighing for what felt like the millionth time that day, Bakura rolled over, putting a pillow over his head. No. It was someone for Ryou, and Ryou was not here, therefore he had no business nor reason in answering the door. But the knocks only grew more persistent and Bakura threw his pillow at the door in annoyance as if it would somehow scare the person on the other side away.

"I know you're in there, thief!"

The whitette's eyes snapped open. He knew that voice. Oh no...

Gritting his teeth, Bakura launched off of the couch and stomping over to the door, cracking it. His visitor was no other than Mariku.

"What do you want?" Bakura asked dangerously, narrowing his eyes. Mariku just grinned lopsidedly, tilting his head. Something about that cocky look pissed Bakura off to worlds end. "Someone's certainly lost his way." he growled.

Mariku had the nerve to chuckle.

"Indeed, one of us has lost their way." the blond answered easily. "But it's not me."

Bakura grinded his teeth together, "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means-" Mariku took a step forward and Bakura tried to slam the door, but the Egyptian jammed his foot in the crack, getting the door open and only furthering Bakura's frustration. The same cocky smirk reappeared on Marikus face. "It means," he repeated. "That I've found a life for myself and you haven't, and you're..."

"Jealous."

Bakura scoffed. Jealous? Of Mariku? Please. He rolled his brown eyes.

"Roll your eyes at me all you want but while I'm finally out and living you're going to bars every night to drink away how miserable you are."

It was true. Bakura wouldn't deny that. But that didn't mean he had to stand here and taking the other man's shit.

"Then how about you go out and live your oh so wonderful life and stay out of mine." the thief muttered, trying to shut the door. But Mariku's foot was still jamming it and he used that to his advantage, pushing against the weight Bakura was putting against the door and successfully letting himself in.

Bakura groaned under his breath as he watched the other get comfortable on his couch. The thief was tired; psychically, mentally and emotional. Almost all the anger drained from his body. He didn't even care who got the last word in. He just wanted to chug the rest of that bottle of wine and pass out on the couch. Mariku was in the way of this plan, and Bakura didn't like that.

"What do you want?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. It was odd, to actually have a conversation with this...thing. He was more used to the homicidal maniac from Battle City. This Yami Marik just seemed so... off. It was putting Bakura on edge.

"Let me make this short and sweet." Mariku said. "You're alive for all eternity. I'm alive for all eternity." The blond opened his eyes to look at the whitette whose expression hadn't changed. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

But Bakura heard him loud and clear and he blushed for multiple reasons- anger, frustration, sadness, and because, well, Mariku was gorgeous and for him to offer himself like this was, admittedly, attractive to him.

Mariku would never know that, though. Bakura would keep his straight face until the end.

"You must be deranged if you think I'd ever stop so low as to get with you."

"Ouch." Mariku chuckled, feigning innocence.

Bakura was getting impatient and his head was killing him. "What do you really want?"

The blond turned on him with a predatory gaze, standing slowly.

"You."

Brown eyes went wide and he tried to back up, forgetting there was a wall behind him. "No." he said sternly, but Yami Marik kept coming, soon having his hands on Bakura's shoulders, leaning in, but Bakura, driven by instinct, did what any sane person would do.

He punched Mariku directly in the face.

Shocked (But why was he? Really?) Mariku fumbled, but only for a second before his hand was around Bakura's neck.

"Dont-" Mariku began, blood trickling from his nose. "-try that again."

Intensifying the force in his grip, Mariku leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Bakura's frowning lips. The man growled, trying to push Mariku off of him but the other was stronger, plain as day.

"You need put in your place." the Egyptian smirked, leaning in to bite and suck on Bakura's neck. The spirit bit back a moan and replied quite angrily.

"You're the same monster you've always been." Bakura spat.

That must have struck a nerve because the blond's eyes went wide and his arms fell to his sides. Bakura was genuinely surprised by this reaction. Mariku looked like a deer in a cars headlights and he backed away, hands balling into fists and Bakura thought he was going to hit him, but Mariku headed for the door instead, slamming it behind him.

The thief just stared at the door for a minute, somehow expecting Mariku to come back. Judging by the monster comment, maybe Mariku really had found his place in this world. Bakura felt sick again. He dragged himself over to the couch, collapsing and grabbing the bottle of wine, chugging the rest of it and laying down. He brushed his fingers over the hickey Mariku had given him. Maybe he should have just let his fellow yami do what he wanted with him.

What else did he have to lose?

* * *

 

"I tear my heart open. I sew myself shut. And my weakness is, that I care too much. And my scars remind me, that the past is real. I tear my heart open, just to feel. I'm drunk and I'm feeling down, and I just wanna be alone. I'm pissed cause you came around. Why don't you just go home? Cause you've channeled all your pain, and I can't help you fix yourself. You're making me insane."

 


	3. Sign on the Line, Make a Deal With the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bakura collapsed on his pullout bed and questioned his life choices.

Chapter Track: Soul 4 Sale by Simon Curtis

* * *

It was annoying. It was stressful. It was positively nerve racking.

Everything that had occurred in the last 48 hours had Bakura up all night, musing on who he was,... and who he wasn't. He had told Mariku that he would never stoop so low as to associate with him in any way, shape or form, but... How could he get any lower than he already was?

He was exhausted in every sense of the word and feeling destructive and angry. He was trying to make himself breakfast but when he burnt his toast he snapped and shoved everything off of the counter of the kitchenette. Hearing the door open seconds later, he sighed grumpily. Ryou had had an early class and now he was home and looking concerned.

Ryou knew he hadn't slept. He had been awake when he left for class. But he didn't expect the younger whitette to ask such a question.

"Have you had a nap today?"

Bakura raised a brow, "No."

"Well you need one."

The thief huffed and jumped over the back of the couch and onto the pull out bed. That's what he was stuck with since he and Ryou lived in a one bedroom apartment. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world but it did its job. Bakura closed his eyes, sure he wouldn't fall asleep, but as fate would have it he was awoken a few hours later courtesy of Ryou gently shaking his shoulder.

"Nghh, what?" Bakura groaned, burying his face in his pillow. Ryou wanted him to sleep so why in the hell was he waking him up? He felt like he had slept a mere few minutes and he just wanted to pull the blanket over his head and drift back into dreamland.

"The Ishtar's are coming to visit." Ryou clarified. Bakura groaned again. He knew Malik and Ryou were friends, but did he have to invite the whole family over? He hadn't talked to Malik since he first came back into this world. It felt like ages ago...

***Flackback***

_**Malik wasn't sure how Bakura had found his room number, or even his hotel judging by how drunk Bakura turned out to be. But here he was, at Malik's door, holding onto the door frame for support and glaring at the blond.** _

_**"You." Bakura growled. "I need to talk to you."** _

_**Malik's eyebrows shot up in surprise but he stepped aside anyway and allowed Bakura in. Really, he was skeptical. Not just because Bakura was somehow back, but also because he didn't need nor want the spirit's negativity in his life. He had finally found his place in this world. He didn't want Bakura dragging him down with him.** _

_**"You bastard." Bakura grit his teeth.** _

_**"What did I do?" Malik was truly confused.** _

_**"You almost got me killed in Battle City that's what you did!"** _

_**"Actually I almost got Ryou killed." the Ishtar clarified. "And I've already apologized for that. Ask him yourself."** _

_**"Whatever." Bakura rolled his brown eyes before glaring at him accusingly. "You fucked me over."** _

_**Now it was Malik's turn to glare. "And just how did I fuck you over?"** _

_**"I took your side and you... you..." Now Bakura was drawing a blank. What was he angry about again? That Malik didn't somehow save him from the Shadow Realm even though he wasn't technically stuck in the Shadow Realm? That they had lost against Malik's evil half?** _

_**Why was he here again?** _

_**"Bakura, you're drunk. You don't know what you're talking about." Malik smiled just a tad, clearly finding this amusing.** _

_**"Don't tell me what I think I'm talking about- you don't know what you're talking about!" Bakura grunted, dizzy and showing clear signs of it.** _

_**Malik knew better than to take Bakura for who he was in the past. He and Ryou had surprisingly become close friends and the former hikari had told him all about Bakura and how he had changed. He had also informed him that Bakura has become somewhat of a drunk.** _

_**Malik couldn't really say he was surprised.** _

_**"I think you need to sit down." the tanned man said, leading Bakura by the arm to sit on the edge of the hotel bed.** _

_**Neither of them said anything for the longest of time before Malik chuckled.** _

_**"I'll never forget your face when Ra attacked you."** _

_**The drunk yami just smirked tiredly.** _

_**"Shut the hell up Malik."** _

***Fla** **shback end***

Bakura was brought back to reality by Ryou snapping his fingers in front of his face.

"Earth to Bakura." Ryou said. "You're staring off into space again."

Normally that spelled trouble, as it normally meant Bakura was thinking too hard and that was never good.

Grunting, Bakura dragged himself out of bed and waved behind him as he walked towards the bathroom, "I'm going to go take a shower." And that had originally been the plan,... until Bakura took his shirt off and got a reality check in the mirror. His skin was pale and his muscles were nearly nonexistent. He touched his chest, frowning deeply. He was strong, once; fearless. But now? Now things got to him. That was never a problem Bakura had had to deal with. Even as a child Bakura was brave. He loved his family, he loved his village. He was happy. But then that fateful night fell... Bakura felt sick suddenly. He was once the King of Thieves. Now he was just... whatever he was. Whoever he was. Whoever _what_ he was. He didn't know. Maybe that was why Mariku truly wanted him. Because he had truly lost his way. He was an easy target.

He didn't even know who he was anymore.

Not feeling up to taking a shower anymore, Bakura put his shirt back on and exited the bathroom only to see the Ishtar's were already present in his home. Ryou was talking with Ishizu and Malik and Rishid were sitting at the kitchenettes island. Malik smiled Bakura's way but Bakura didn't show an sign of seeing it. It was obvious by the carefree smile, by the way Malik carried himself; he had found his place in this world. And Bakura hated himself for being jealous.

What the whitette noticed next was Mariku standing alone off in the corner, his hands in his jeans pockets and the utter look of disdain. Something about that look almost had Bakura smirking. Maybe he wasn't the only lost one anymore, ne? He was tempted to take advantage, and back in the day he happily would have, but then his mind wandered back to his experience in the bathroom and realized... He was no better off than Mariku was. Maybe even less so, as Mariku knew less about this world and how to react to every day situations. If that monster comment had been enough to throw him off this much...

They were both damned.

And suddenly he felt drawn to Mariku. Drawn to how lost and fragile he was. Drawn to how alike they were.

He clicked his tongue and Mariku was the only one who looked up. Bakura motioned him forward with his finger and he felt all eyes on them as Mariku slowly followed and they exited the room. Bakura took him to the back room; Ryou's room. He shut the door and pinned Mariku up against it, glaring at him.

"I don't know what your game is," Bakura hissed. "But... I want to play."

Slowly, a grin crossed Mariku's face.

"If you insist. Remember, you asked for it."

Leaning forward quickly, their lips collided harshly, teeth clinking with teeth as they kissed viciously. Bakura didn't know what he was doing. That was a rare occurrence for him. But... he liked it. He liked the spontaneity of it all. It sent a kind of excitement he hadn't felt in a long time tingle through him, up his spine and shooting throughout his limbs. Before Mariku could stop him, his teeth were biting into his neck and he sucked and licked and drowned in Mariku's guttural moan.

They froze in the act when a knock sounded against the blond's back.

"Mariku, it's time to go." Ishizu's voice sounded.

The blond sighed and smirked at Bakura.

"We'll finish this later, yeah?" his voice was low and seductive and Bakura had to fight to suck in a breath.

"Get out of here." he smirked back, licking at his now bloody lip.

Mariku did just that. The Ishtar's left and Ryou didn't ask questions but he looked rather disturbed. Bakura collapsed on his pullout bed and questioned his life choices.

He was making a big sacrifice in his pride for this.

What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

"This is a relationship in which I make a sacrifice. Take the cut and split it up and leave the body paralyzed. Unable to be clear of it till it's too late to realize. But that's just what you've gotta do. You take the ride you pay the price."


	4. Of Kittens & Pompous Assholes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation via text gets heated in the way you'd expect but not in the way you'd hope.

Chapter Track: I Hate You by Sick Puppies

* * *

Bakura didn't know the meaning of sleeping peacefully, especially not after what had happened. He'd tossed and turned all night, the fleeting moment between he and Mariku just mere hours prior was haunting him. It was just a minor (well... major) lapse of judgement. He couldn't believe he had humored that foul demon. What was he thinking?

Growling, he opened his eyes to the surprise of the morning rays of sunshine streaming in through the curtains. It was morning already? _Fantastic_. Sighing, Bakura sat up and rubbed his tired eyes.

"You're up early." Ryou noted as he strode into the living room, up and ready for the day.

"I didn't sleep." Bakura muttered, rubbing his eyes some more until he was seeing stars.

Ryou looked concerned as he walked over to the counter, carefully picking up a scrap of paper. He didn't know the details, but perhaps this piece of paper was the key to the lock of what was on the other male's mind.

"Here." he said, placing his cellphone and the scrap of paper into Bakura's suspicious hands. The spirit looked down at the items, looking unimpressed.

"What is this?" Bakura asked impatiently, not liking the nervous smile Ryou was offering.

"Mariku left his number for you last night. I forgot to tell you."

Okay, that was a lie. Ryou had purposely kept it from him, feeling highly uncomfortable with the idea of the two former psychos communicating. But Malik had assured him that maybe the two could balance each other out and help each other find their place in this world. Quite uncharacteristic for a teen who had previously tried to banish his demon to the shadows. But as it turned out, Mariku was doing quite well and Bakura, well... not so much. Perhaps the former spirit of the ring needed this.

Before Bakura could ask why in the hell he should text that bastard Ryou was out the door, calling out that he'd be home after class. Bakura huffed, glaring at the paper of messy scribbles of numbers. He considered it for a minute; really considered it. But then he threw it to the side, pulling himself out of his pullout bed and grabbing a shirt, sniffing it to see if it was clean enough to wear. _Close enough._

He didn't want to be reminded of his slip up. He didn't want to be reminded of the rush Mariku gave him. He didn't want the other man to hold any kind of power over him whatsoever. There was only one answer to this.

Drink until the problem went away (sure that hadn't worked so far, but Bakura was quite the persistent one.)

Soon enough he was seated at the same bar he always frequented, sipping on vodka and drawing pictures and words into the dusty bar. Today was going to be a long day.

"Well well well. I thought I'd find you here."

Bakura groaned internally. Mariku. Oh yeah, it was gonna be a long day.

He swiveled around in his stool, glancing at the sun-kissed blond. He didn't say a word. He just stared. Mariku could talk all he wanted but Bakura didn't want to listen. He had made a fool of himself last night and honestly? He was embarrassed, and he didn't want to deal with the consequences of his actions.

"You never texted me." Mariku stated casually. Bakura couldn't tell if he was complaining or saying it just to say something.

"I saw no reason to." Bakura shrugged, his eyes blinking back down to the bar, ignoring Mariku completely as he hopped up onto the seat to his right, placing an order.

They sat and drank in silence for a good 5 minutes before Bakura felt eyes on him. He met Mariku's eyes for almost a full minute before he snapped.

" _What_?"

Mariku just continued to stare, looking deeply into his eyes. They were so...

Dead.

He looked away, swirling the contents of his glass and chuckling lightly.

"You really are miserable."

Bakura's eyes widened ever so slightly before glaring at the man beside him. He opened his mouth to speak ill of him but Mariku interrupted.

"I have a proposition for you."

Bakura bit his tongue and sighed. Mariku didn't mince words and he cut right to the chase.

"Have sex with me."

"What?!" Bakura didn't know whether to be offended, disgusted, or... excited.

"Have sex with me." the tanned man repeated in an easy tone, shrugging. "You need some excitement in your life, and me? I need a good lay."

Mariku was smirking now and Bakura was torn. Did he want to? Oh holy hell yes he did. But he couldn't just go along with this... Could he? Could he play this off without seeming as pathetic as he felt? He certainly felt like he needed to try. So he mimicked the smirk.

"You had better deliver, demon." Bakura's eyes twinkled with newly found excitement. He did need this. He really, _really_ needed this.

"Don't you worry. I will."

And just like that, they were out the door, Mariku pulling the whitette by the wrist around a corner in a back alley where no one could see them. (Because as much as getting arrested for public indecency sounded interesting, it wasn't on either of their agendas.)

In the middle of the alley, it was free game as to who was going to dominate this little game. Mariku made the first move, though; quite quickly at that. Two tanned hands were buried in snow white hair and lips were smashed together in a rough kiss. Bakura's hands trailed up Mariku's back, balling the fabric up in his fists. A simple nip of the lip had Bakura moaning quietly. He couldn't help it. He hadn't been touched like this in so long. So fucking long. He wanted this so badly- the blood in his veins was running hot as lava and he knew Mariku could feel his arousal already.

Bakura didn't let him comment on it, though. As soon as Mariku's mouth was off of his his lips they were on the Eyptian's neck, licking and sucking harshly, leaving reddish purple marks in his wake. This time it was Mariku's turn to moan. Suddenly, though, Mariku shoved him up against the alley wall, both hands on either side of his head. Both men were panting and Mariku licked his lips as he took in the sight of the flushed spirit.

"If I'm judging you correctly," Mariku began smoothly, his tone lowering to a purr as he continued, "you like it rough."

Bakura leaned against the bricks, crossing his arms and smirking.

"You're a better judge of character than I thought."

Mariku didn't need to hear anymore. He snatched both of Bakura's wrists and slammed them against the wall. Bakura groaned in pleasure but glared nonetheless. He wasn't going to just sit by and allow Mariku free access to his body. But it would seem like wouldn't have much of a choice, for the blonde was much stronger than he.

"Tsk tsk tsk." Mariku scolded as Bakura tried to break free. "I made the offer. We're doing this my way."

Bakura quickly weighed his choices and finally decided on how to go about dealing with this situation. He smirked.

"Do your worst."

Mariku's next move, though, had Bakura in a state of shock. The blond sunk down to his knees and pulled Bakura's jeans zipper down with his teeth. As hot as it was, Bakura had to ask why.

"You're so willing to get on your knees for me?"

A smirk was tugging at his lips. Perhaps he was dominating this all along. Or so he thought.

"I have you in the palm of my hands down here." Mariku said, and quite literally proving his point by palming the bulge in Bakura's boxers. Bakura swallowed back his moan but couldn't resist letting his head fall back against the wall.

"Now let's get this show on the road, shall we~?"

Mariku yanked down Bakura's boxers, exposing his rock hard cock. He licked his lips and Bakura shivered at the mere thought of that mouth around his throbbing member. Gods this was all happening so fast and Bakura wanted it so badly that his whole body shook. He was desperate. He knew. Mariku wasn't wrong when he said Bakura needed some excitement in his life. And what could be more exciting than getting a blowjob in an alley?

Well... A lot of things. But Bakura would take what he could get.

If Mariku was half as good at blowjobs as he was at kissing, Bakura had every right to be excited. And the blond soon put that impressive mouth to work.

He licked up Bakura's shaft, his tongue doing wondrous things to Bakura's senses.

"Shit!" Bakura hissed, hands twitching. He needed something to hold onto so he tangled his pale fingers in the demons hair, tugging roughly. Mariku moaned and grabbed Bakura's hips, holding him still and steady as he swallowed the whitette's dick.

Bakura couldn't resist this time. He moaned and he moaned loud.

"Fuck." He panted. "Yes."

Nails dug into his pale flesh, only enhancing the feeling. Mariku was going so painfully slow. Bakura was losing his mind.

"Faster." he whispered, pulling on blond locks just a little harder. Mariku moaned around him and Bakura felt like his legs were going to give out underneath him over the pleasure.

_Please. Please. Please._

Bakura didn't voice the pleas of course, but oh did he wish he could. He wanted more more more.

But already he felt himself starting to completely come undone. He was on that edge, just a little more...

"You like that?" Mariku smirked up at him and Bakura growled desperately, bucking his hips.

"Shut the fuck up and suck me." the whitette demanded. It came out almost like a whine, but Bakura was too far gone to pull himself together to speak as he normally would.

He heard Mariku laugh as he shut his eyes tight. Bakura thanked the gods as Mariku's mouth engulfed him yet again, quickly bringing him to his breaking point.

"Ha, ahh, fuck!"

At last Bakura came, panting heavily and letting his body go limp in Mariku's grip.

Mariku slowly rose to his feet, keeping his hands on Bakura. He caught the whitette in a rough kiss, letting Bakura taste himself on his lips.

"I hate you so much." Bakura whispered, dragging his nails harshly down Mariku's back. The demon grinned.

"I hate you more."

Suddenly though, Mariku's hands were off of him and he almost slipped down to the concrete below. He struggled to pull his pants up as Mariku checked his cellphone.

"What?" Bakura asked. It was hard to be too terribly irritated after the best blowjob of your life.

"I have to go." Mariku stated simply. He winked at Bakura and said, "Text me later. You can return the favor."

And like that, he was gone, leaving a flabbergasted Bakura alone in the alley, not sure what to do next. His legs felt like jello so he sat down, musing to himself about everything that had gone down over the last three days.

He shivered, "I feel dirty."

Was he being used?

Did he care?

He chuckled to himself.

He could get behind this game.

Time skip to an hour later and Bakura was back on his pullout bed, cellphone in hand. Should he? Should he?

No he shouldn't. But he was going to anyway.

**To: Troublesome Demon**

**From: Bakura**

**You wanted me to text you so here you go**

Bakura didn't expect it to turn to sexting so quickly. All he knew was that 10 minutes later he was panting and spent, recuperating from his second mind blowing orgasm of the day.

**To: Spirit**

**From: Troublesome Demon**

**Satisfied, Kitten? I do hope I haven't tired you out already.**

Bakura glared daggers at the screen.

**To: Troublesome Demon**

**From: Spirit**

**Please, don't flatter yourself. You can't even tire yourself out. And by the way, if you ever dare refer to me by that sickening pet-name again, I swear to Ra I will cut you the next time I see you.**

**To: Kitten**

**From: Troublesome Demon**

**Someone's still a little feisty, I see. I can fix that. If I could have stayed around a little longer I'd have you on your knees by now. You'd like that, wouldn't you, KITTEN?**

**To: Pompous Asshole**

**From: Kitten**

**How dare you. I'm giving you a fair warning to stop pushing your luck with me. You won't win this time.**

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**You don't honestly believe that, do you? Oh, how I wish you were here so I could show you how wrong you are.**

Bakura's face flushed. He liked to think it was out of anger, but... Mariku had this affect on him. He wanted to know what Mariku would do to him, but his wall was still up. His pride wasn't broken just yet.

**To: Pompous Asshole**

**From: Kitten**

**As do I. I would be there, thus able to slit open your throat. You're pathetic.**

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**I'm pathetic? May I remind you who was so desperate to be taken just an hour ago? I believe you are in no place to be talking down to me, my dear.**

**To: Pompous Asshole**

**From: Kitten**

**Yes, and I see you are no longer here to take care of those cravings, now are you? Our recent activities didn't really do it for me. Oh well. I suppose I could just find somebody else to fill in. After all, cheap bastards like you are a dime a dozen.**

The whitette smirked proudly. Let's see Mariku come back from that one.

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**Bastard. No one can replace me. No one will make you fall apart like I do. I am the only one who can make you feel that way. Don't deny it, kitten. Your ass is mine, and I assure you, I will be back to claim it.**

Bakura didn't know whether to laugh aloud or chuck the phone across the room.

**To: Pompous Asshole**

**From: Kitten**

**Ha! I'm the bastard? That's rich coming from the bastard child spawned from another child's rejected emotions. Well I don't see anything from stopping me from finding that out.**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**To: Kitten**

**You really must learn to control yourself, my dear. And I believe you know just as much about hatred, darkness and rejected emotions as I do. Am I correct?**

**To: Pompous Asshole**

**From: Kitten**

**As if you'd know anything about control. What a laugh! There is much about me you are unaware of, MY DEAR. Keep me entertained and I will have no reason to seek out others. However, if you continue on with these ridiculous pet-names, I will GLADLY trade you in. Despite how you may feel, NO ONE owns me; Least of all a childish brat such as yourself who knows not of his limits, nor the word "No"**

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**Perhaps I don't. Much like how I couldn't control myself upon seeing you panting and silently begging for me. That was a sight to see, indeed. Oh really? I see right through you, Bakura. There is nothing you can hide from me. I may not own you, but I certainly wouldn't mind the challenge. Now, my precious, I have a serious question, and I command your honesty.**

**To: Pompous Asshole**

**From: Kitten**

**Let me remind you of something, Mariku. You are incapable of feelings. How could you possibly read what is beyond your comprehension? And in your dreams, you petulant child. You may command all you like, but that does not mean I shall oblige. Ask away and we shall see.**

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**No one is incapable of feeling. Not you and not I. Are you afraid of feeling again, Bakura? Now, onto my question: Did you enjoy earlier today? Had you been craving that as badly as I? Your words and your actions are screaming two very different things, my dear.**

**To: Pompous Asshole**

**From: Kitten**

**No one: as in, real people; Actual human beings. You do not fall under that category, Mariku. Nor do I; You for obvious reasons, and I because I gave up my humanity long ago. You ask too many questions, especially ones you already know the answer to.**

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**I don't know about you, Bakura, but after spending as much time in the Shadow Realm as I have, I'm tired. I'm tired of not feeling the slightest bit human. You must be envious too. Do you remember what it feels like to be human, Bakura? Or did you block out those painful memories? We're immortal. Trapped. Stuck in a world in which we do not belong, and we must make do with what we have been given. I'm ready to do just that. The question is, are you?**

**To: Pompous Asshole**

**From: Kitten**

**This is a pointless discussion, Mariku. I do not wish to wallow on what has already been lost. I've spent far too much of this life time doing so. I can't handle anymore mind games. And I was a tomb-robber, you moron. Of course life was painful. But that pain reminded me that I was alive, and despite how empty I felt inside, I could still feel, even though... I don't know why I'm even wasting my time explaining any of this to you. I think I've just discovered a new level of hatred for you. What are you even suggesting with all of this?**

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**I am not trying to fool you with petty mind games, Bakura. I'm curious. I am quite interested in this hidden side of you. All I've ever seen from you is hate and cockiness. The fact that you even have a semi-emotional side is a shocking discovery. Now now, Kura, name-calling will get you nowhere. Now, go on, say what you were going to say, my dear. I'm coming back to Domino City in three months. Perhaps we can pick up where we left off.**

He was getting the hang of this texting business. Even while furious he was typing away at the speed of light.

**To: Pompous Asshole**

**From: Kitten**

**Well excuse me if that's all I've ever seen you do. Don't try to deny it, either. We both know you live for manipulation. You'll do anything to ensure things go your way. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm rather guilty of that charge as well. But my point still remains: I do not let others into my head. I don't need to, nor do I want to. You cannot depend on others, it's a waste of time, and will only disappoint you. That is, if you're foolish enough to have high expectations in the first place. You've been out of the Shadow Realm for quite some time now. Haven't you learned this lesson already? Or does that little family of yours keep you away from all the "innocence" of the world, preventing you from seeing it for yourself? Either way, you cannot actually expect me to blurt out my entire life story simply because you said please. Trust is key, Mariku. A key you do not possess. Perhaps. We shall see…**

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**You've been manipulating people for over three-thousand years. The only difference between you and I is that I am far more skilled at it. I'm not asking for you to depend on me. The mere thought of you lowering yourself to that is sickening. I am simply asking for you to relay a bit of trust. Do you still remember how to trust? Did you ever possess the skill in the first place? Also, I wouldn't refer to Odion or Ishizu as my "family". You remind me of a scared little kitten, you know that? You act tough, but it's all an act. You just end up digging your grave a little deeper every time. Now, for instance. When are you going to realize you're defenseless against me? I will win over you each and every time, and you know it to be true. You will tell me what I wish you to know, whether it is willingly, or whether I have to force it out of you. You should be grateful, Spirit. Someone's actually showing an interest in your weak self. In fact, I believe a bit of gratitude is in order from you.**

"Fuck you!"

* * *

"I hate you when you're gone. I hate you turn me on. I hate the way I need you when I don't know where you are. I love it even more when I find you on the floor. I know you think you hate me but I will always hate you more."


	5. ALIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To: Kitten
> 
> From: Pompous Asshole
> 
> Oh, did I touch a nerve? How very insensitive of me.
> 
> To: Kitten
> 
> From: Pompous Asshole
> 
> Okay. I get it. You're pissy now. Ignoring me isn't going to make this go away, Bakura.
> 
> To: Bakura
> 
> From: Pompous Asshole
> 
> Please tell me you're not actually waiting for an apology….You can't ignore me forever.
> 
> To: Bakura
> 
> From: Pompous Asshole
> 
> Alright. I'm sorry. Is that what you need to hear?

Chapter Track: I Like by Katy Rose

* * *

"Fuck you!"

The fuming man growled loudly, furious. He chucked the infernal contraption as far away from him as he could.

Mariku was insufferable!

Trying to stand proved futile. His legs were wobbly; half because they had fallen asleep a good while ago, half because anger was shaking his whole body to the point of being sore. Defeated, he slumped back against the wall and pulled his knees to his chest to rest his throbbing head.

How dare he. How bloody dare he!

He had taken a fools chance and made a vast number of fools errors, and he had nothing, least of all his dignity, to show for it. Why had he bothered with any of this? He should have known even speaking to the other Yami would get him in a situation such as this. He had allowed himself to get carried away, swayed by emotions he still didn't understand.

"Fuck," he cursed again. His body burned from the rage surging through his veins. Suddenly, he stood, wobbling on his shaky legs, and kicked the cracked door open fully, nearly pulling it off its hinges. He stomped into the living room, his hikari nowhere in sight, much to his relief. He despised letting Ryou ever see him in such a state of disarray. It just made the boy worry, and Bakura didn't have the patience it would have taken to calm the other down right now.

In desperate need of some stress relief, his fist connected with the wall over and over and over again. He threw punch after punch at the drywall, losing count of how many long before he was calm enough to stop himself. He pretended not to notice the dents in the wall and the throbbing in his now surely bruised knuckles.

He stopped, his body going slightly limp. He dazed out for a minute or three. It was like the calm before the storm. And then, as quickly as it had vanished, the stress and the anger and the anxiety resurfaced. It flooded into him like water pouring through an open floodgate. He felt something in him give away and he snapped.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

His hands instinctively went to his head, long, pale fingers tangling themselves in long white hair and pulling anxiously. His breathing was becoming labored and his heart felt as though it was on the verge on beating right out of his chest. It hurt.

"Dammit," he whimpered, dropping to his knees in a painful heap on the floor. He covered his eyes with his hands. He felt like the room was closing in on him. He concentrated all his attention on forcing his breathing to return to normal, desperate to avoid a panic attack. He remembered facing them on a nightly basis back in his childhood, and the last thing he wanted tonight was a repeat of that.

He choked back muffled sobs and broken sentences and let his nails dig deeply into his pale arm to the point of drawing blood.

_Focus on the pain. Focus on the pain._

This is what he did. This was what had to be done to keep his emotions in check. Physical pain was better than emotional pain any day to Bakura.

The stinging as he pulled his nails from the crescent-shaped wounds and the cool feel of a thin trail of blood slipping down his lithe arm was almost enough to put him at ease.

Almost.

With the last surge of anger and contempt he had in him at the moment, he kicked the wall in frustration, feeling it dent slightly under the pressure. He let his head fall against the wall with an almost painful clunk, and took in a shaky breath.

This is all his fault.

Mariku. Mariku made him do this. Mariku made him need to do this. Mariku had drawn this behavior out of him.

Bakura made a pathetic sound in the back of his throat.

Mariku.

Mariku had gotten under his skin to the point of destruction of himself and of everything around him. Mariku had driven him to this point with a few harsh words and less than friendly texts.

Mariku had brought out his self-conscious side. Easily. Too easily.

Taking a few seconds to adjust his eyes to the growing darkness, he stared at the condition he had just put the thin wall of his apartment in. Ryou would not be pleased, but Bakura was far less pleased.

Blinking back the tears, Bakura stood; still a little wobbly and light-headed, and dragged himself to Ryou's bedroom. He leaned down to pick up the cellphone he had discarded awhile back to assess the damage. Luckily, he had managed not to utterly destroy his light's phone.

He sighed heavily, suddenly feeling mentally and physically drained. He collapsed onto Ryou's unoccupied bed and fiddled with the phone, pressing random keys and watching the screen light up in random intervals. He re-read Mariku's text once, twice, three times, unsure of how to reply, or if he even had the fight left in him to do so.

He soon decided that he did not.

Dropping the phone at his side, he pulled the heavy blanket over his body, sighing almost contently at the warmth. He wished he had a bed of his own instead of being sentenced to the pull-out bed in the couch, but Ryou's apartment had one bedroom and one bedroom alone, so Bakura was out of luck. The comfort of being wrapped up, warm and protected in a nice, cozy bed was something Bakura secretly wished he could experience more often, but he wouldn't lower himself to crawling into bed with his light every night. That was just childish.

He yawned in a manner that could almost be considered cute and snuggled up against the mountain of pillows. He soon drifted off into a troubled sleep.

Seconds, minutes, hours; Bakura hadn't a clue how long he had been asleep in his hikari's bed, nor did it concern him.

All he knew was that another body was snuggled up at his side, snoring lightly. He yawned silently, stretching gently and slowly, trying not to disturb the other occupant of the bed. The other rolled over and murmured something inaudible, but did not awake.

Bakura pulled down the blankets just enough to see the relaxed expression on his sleeping hikari's face. The moonlight shone through the window of the room, illuminating both of them beautifully, and despite himself, Bakura smiled ever-so-slightly. Ryou was like the younger brother he had always wanted as a child, but never had.

He knew tomorrow would bring worried glances and troublesome questions about why there were fist-shaped dents in the hallway, but for now, everything was peaceful. Bakura could breathe easy for the first time that day. He brushed a few stray hairs out of Ryou's face. Ryou stirred slightly and latched onto him in a gentle embrace, almost as if trying to cuddle with him.

Despite his strong desire to stay in the warm cocoon of blankets with his light, Bakura knew if he stayed, the morning would come sooner, and he wasn't quite ready for that just yet.

Instead, he pulled himself from the others arms, replacing himself with a pillow so Ryou would still have something to hold onto while he slept. He stepped on the cellphone on his way away from the bed. He must have shoved it away in his sleep. A bit hesitant, he grabbed it before heading out of the room.

After pulling out his respective bed from the recesses of the large couch and dropping cushions and his blanket atop the not-so-comfortable mattress, he flopped down and flipped the phone open in curiosity, only to see the screen flashing a message:

Four unread messages

Blinking in confusion and peaked curiosity, Bakura went to check on these so-called messages.

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**Oh, did I touch a nerve? How very insensitive of me.**

**To: Kitten**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**Okay. I get it. You're pissy now. Ignoring me isn't going to make this go away, Bakura.**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**Please tell me you're not actually waiting for an apology….You can't ignore me forever.**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Pompous Asshole**

**Alright. I'm sorry. Is that what you need to hear?**

Bakura gave the phone an incredulous look, as if the letters on the screen were all a big joke to make him drop his guard. Mariku was apologizing? To him? Really? His eyes narrowed dangerously. What kind of fucked up game was this? What did Mariku gain from this "telling him what he needed to hear" nonsense? Bakura felt very anxious suddenly. He shut his eyes and all he could imagine in his mind was a traffic light, flickering between red and green: Go, stop, go, stop, go.

Bakura didn't like to do anything without reason, and what reason did he have to pursue Mariku or this conversation any further? He backtracked. What was it driving them both to carry on with whatever all of this was? What was the point? Why was Mariku so intent on messing with his head? Why was he letting him? The anxiety and paranoia was turning into pure adrenaline. The control Mariku unknowingly had over him made him sick. His mind was racing and his hands were shaking and everything felt a little too real.

Go, stop, go, stop, go, stop, go

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Though it may come as a surprise, I wasn't ignoring you. I fell asleep.**

Bakura laughed. It was a low, nervous kind of laugh, one lacking any actual trace of joy. He was amused was all, that from him text alone Mariku wouldn't be able to tell how distressed he really was. Something told him Mariku was going to keep him waiting just like Bakura had done to him, so he rolled over onto his side, the phone still clutched in his hand, and shut his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep. Apparently, though, Mariku had other plans.

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**About time, sleeping beauty.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Don't start.**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**Don't be like that. I see you're much calmer now.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Unless you want that to change, I would suggest not bringing it up.**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**Have it your way. I'm surprised you texted me back at all.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Don't get used to it. You're insufferable, you know that?**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**I'm almost convinced that's why you keep talking to me.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Like I said: insufferable. I'm going back to bed.**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**Fine.**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**Good night.**

Bakura could feel something. He didn't know what exactly to classify it as. Pride, maybe, that Mariku had been left waiting to hear from him again? Relief, perhaps, because things weren't quite as bad as they seemed? But there was something else. Something deep down in his core that he didn't care to ponder on. He read over the last text message again and the corners of his lips twitched. Whatever it was, it could wait until the morning.

But sleep didn't come as easily as he would have imagined. He was constantly awoken by what he thought was the phone beeping and buzzing, but when he checked, there was nothing waiting for him. It drove him crazy, but worse yet, each time he was hoping for there to be something there. The reason for this was obviously because this strange phenomenon had already woken him up, and he detested being disturbed for no good reason.

But that didn't explain the sinking feeling in his chest every time he was left empty handed.

Morning did eventually come, and a fatigued whitette somehow felt obligated to let the other Yami know he was awake.

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Good morning**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**Someone's in a good mood.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Oh? How do you figure that?**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**You texted me, didn't you?**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**… Go play in traffic**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**Only if you join me, my dear.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Stop**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**No. I don't think I will.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Don't you have something productive to be doing?**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**Depends. Would you consider getting drunk productive?**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**… It's 10:00am, Mariku.**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**It's 3:00am here, dear.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**I'm…not sure if that's better or worse, actually.**

**To: Bakura**

**From: Mariku**

**I'm not sure. After all, alcohol got us into this situation in the first place.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**Indeed.**

**To: Mariku**

**From: Bakura**

**So… Three months until you come back, you said? Interesting…**

* * *

"You might just turn into something I like."


End file.
